When you get right down to the bone, it's just a question of motivation, isn't it? It certainly is with me. I had to ask myself a question, and that question was, "How long are you going to keep finding reasons to put up with the bullshit?" I'm using bullshit as a blanket term, of course. Still, when you stop to consider the area a bull can really cover with his...uh...constitutional, it's an appropriate use of the word.
I've done what I had to do; that much is clear. I brought my ship into port for a few years, I paid the slip fee, I became a landlubber and played the game. For a while, the game worked out. And then I was reminded that no matter how well you might play the game for a time, you're still playing by the house rules. Eventually, the house will win because the house doesn't give a shit about whether it's playing fair or not. The funny part is that I had been handed this lesson before, and I still didn't listen out of a sense of loyalty to people who had shown commitment to me. That's fine, but those people didn't matter in the grand scheme of things, and by that, I mean they weren't the ones who ultimately make the decisions. Like so many others, I was plundered for my natural resources and sent to the rubbish bin when my use-by date expired. Now, you might say, "That's the way it is, mate," and I agree with you. That is the way that is, and after learning that hard reality a second time, I can call it what it truly is: Bullshit.
Now, lest you think I blame them, I want to clarify that I don't. I'm just as much to blame in this scenario because I played my part. I played along. So I'm not some victim; I'm an accomplice. And there's not a bit of remorse from this old and salty villain. This is a confession for my part in the crime. My sentence? Well, according to one version of the Pirate's Code, it's half my share. That seems appropriate since the position I find myself in is about half my previous wages. However, I believe I've done my time. I've paid my debt. I had hoped I would have been reappointed to my earlier station, but it now appears that isn't in the cards. My usefulness for something other than chattel has come to an end. That realization was the moment that planted the question in my mind. How long will I endure the bullshit?
The answer is exactly this long, and no longer.
I've decided that this landlubber life doesn't suit me after all. It's time to head back to the dock.
